I don’t know how I’m going to distract her, or what to say, but words just come flowing out of my mouth. “I know you’re curious about why my family and I don’t speak. It’s complicated, but simple at the same time. My parents took it badly when I joined the club. They see me as nothing but a low-life criminal, when we both know it’s quite the opposite. The Reapers aren’t like that. We keep crime low and our families safe.”
Her tears start to slow down and she looks at me in a way that she never has before. “They do not understand that you found your faith in the Reaper, where they found theirs in the cross.”
I’ve never thought of it quite like that, but she’s right. I nod, agreeing with her. “No, they don’t. They will never understand it, though. I had to make the decision a long time ago to accept the fact that if I’m a Reaper, they will never be a part of my life. It wasn’t an easy decision, but it was one I made. For so long, I tried to find my place amongst so many, and for the first time I fit in somewhere. Somewhere I least expected to.”
We’re both silent for a couple of minutes. Neither one of us makes a peep, so I unbuckle Camila from her seat belt and pull her into my arms. “Get some shut eye. We can talk more about all my problems later. Right now you need some sleep, and don’t worry. I’ll stay up and keep guard. Just relax, Princess.”
9
Fear is a reaction. Courage is a decision.
-Winston S. Churchill
Booger
I made the decision bright and early to put Camila back in the passenger seat, secure her, and lean it back. We needed to get over to the clubhouse location. Honestly, I think I needed to move around a bit. Sitting in one place for too long just isn’t for me. Damon didn’t call or even send a text message on where they are, not even now. The only thing that’s keeping me calm is knowing that they’ll be here shortly, and we won’t be as outnumbered as we are.
I decide to take a drive into town and stop by a drive-thru, ordering Camila and myself both a hefty breakfast, getting orange juices and two cups of coffee while I’m at it. Somehow, the girl still stays asleep. I place the bag in the seat between us and grab out my sausage, egg and cheese bagel, then continue on to where our clubhouse location will be.
Upon arriving, I smile at the pleasant sight that is a few trailers. I count ten right off the bat and then I see a big one in the middle, while the others are scattered out and surround it. “Where are we?” Camila groggily asks as I park the truck. I turn to look at her, watching as she rubs her hands against her eyes and offer her a coffee.
“Welcome to our humble abode, the hybrid club for the Reapers and Brotherhood MC.”
“Oh, well… what are we in here for? Let’s get in the houses.” Before I know it, she’s hopped out of the truck with her coffee in hand and walks straight up to the nearest mobile home. I quickly follow her, seeing that the keys to the trailer are hanging out of the door. She turns the knob and steps inside, “Oh my goodness!”
At her tone, my heart jumps and I barrel in through the door. I don’t know what I was expecting to see, but it wasn’t an empty house. Nothing is here. “Jesus. Why did your voice get high like that?! Scared the living shit outta me.”
“Huh? It’s just so nice. Look at that kitchen, and these floors!” I roll my eyes at her. The house is empty with light gray walls and some sort of multi-toned wood floor. I follow Camila into the kitchen and see white cabinets, a nice sized fridge and a decent range oven. These trailers are nicer than I thought they were going to be. I follow her through the entire place, checking out two decent sized bedrooms on both ends of the house that have an en-suite bathroom attached. There’s another small bathroom in the middle of the home, right off the living room and the kitchen has a decent sized island in here. “What is this space for?” Camila asks me, and I turn to look at an open space right around the living area.
“I’m not really sure, a dining room, I guess.”
“Is there not supposed to be any furniture here?”
I shrug, honestly not sure. “I don’t think so. We’ll go get some later when some of them arrive. I should get my bike off the back of my truck, though. Stay put in here while I go handle that.” I say, walking out of the house to the truck. I pull down my tailgate, get the ramp secured and wheel my bike down slowly. No way in hell do I want this baby to get any scratches.
I hear the rumbling of bikes, and just as I’m putting mine next to my truck, I see a group of bikers rolling around the corner. I don’t mistake those colors anywhere. It’s the Reapers, comin’ in full throttle with red and I see Brotherhood with their blue a few feet behind. I’ll admit, it’s nice to not be alone and have to handle shit by myself. Once I get my bike settled, I open the truck doors and grab a couple of my duffels and take them inside the mobile home, setting them in the room that Camila is standing in. “Is this our room?” I ask her, not missing the way her face reddens. “Whoa. Are you blushing?”
“Uh, yes. Are we really going to be sleeping together? I mean, we didn’t talk about sharing the same room.”
I cross my arms and sternly stare at her. “Am I supposed to take that as you don’t want to be sharing a bed with me?”
“No, no! That’s not what I mean. It’s just… we’re moving very fast.”
I approach her and pull her into my arms, “What’s the point in wasting more time when we both know what we want?”
She purses her lips together and nods, trying to hide a small smile and change the subject. “We need furniture, though.”
“Damn, I just told you that we’d go get some soon,” I chuckle, knowing that I’d better get used to this shit. “We need to figure out who’s gonna end up bein’ our housemate.” I say, knowing that there’s no way we’ll be lucky enough to have a house to ourselves. I know that Damon and Kat, and Amara should have their own houses. Maybe Widow too, if he and Amara are still a thing, but that’s some pretty heavy level complicated shit.
A knock comes to the door and I walk over and open it, revealing Damon. “Hey,”
“Hey. How was your trip?”
“Long, exhausting. How you two holding up?”
“Hi Damon,” Camila says, peeking in.
“Hey. Looks like all these trailers are empty. We’re gonna need to get some furniture shopping done. Camila, why don’t you go out with Kat, Widow and Cobra to go put in some orders in town? Boog and I need to handle some stuff here.”
“Sure, just give me a minute.” Camila runs back into our bedroom and comes right back, starting to go out the door.
“Hey, where do you think you’re goin’?” I grumble out at her, irritated by what she just did. She walks back to me and gives me a kiss on the cheek, starting to turn around again. “Damn, Camila!” I dig into my wallet and yank out my credit card. “How did you think you’re gonna pay for all of that shit?”
“Oh,” She giggles, eyes sparkling. “Thanks. I would’ve needed this.”
“Mhm, you sure would’ve. Make sure you get us a comfy leather couch. Alright?”
“You got it!”
She goes off to the door and stops as I speak. “Princess, stay safe.”
“I will. I’ll see you in a couple hours, and I’ll make sure we stop at the grocery store too.”
Damon puts his hand up in the air and starts to speak. “Good idea. Say, Camila, can you grab enough food for a BBQ too? I think tomorrow we should throw a party, a celebration on our unification with the Brotherhood. It’s been a long time, and we all deserve to have a good time for a few hours.”
“Sure thing. I’ll cook up a storm,”
“Great.” Damon says.
I know Damon well enough to understand that if he purposefully gave her a task, it means that he wants to keep her busy. I’m just wondering why, and what it is that he obviously knows. I don’t have a doubt in my mind that sooner or later, I’m going to find out.
10
So, I close my eyes to old ends and open my heart to new beginnings.
&n
bsp; -Anonymous
Camila
Kat drove Fist’s old truck out into town, and both Widow and Cobra followed us. Our own personal protection detail as it is. It seems they had the same idea we did. Bring the bigger vehicle, and haul a lot more of your stuff.
“I was concerned when I heard you two ran into a bit of trouble,” Kat says to me as we open the door to the small furniture store. I hear the clacking of Widow’s combat boots against the floor a mere few feet behind us. Cobra’s already shot right past us. I assume he’s checking the perimeter, or maybe he just really hates our company that much.
“It wasn’t a pleasant experience,” I softly murmur, walking over to where I see a bunch of different curtains. The house is a gray color, so I think I’ll pick some sort of bright accent pieces to make it a little brighter. Just because I’m living amongst bikers, doesn’t mean that everything has to be gross and manly. I can tone it down a bit. I move my hands through the variety of colors and patterns and see Kat does the same. Her hands land on a deep, bright purple with a chevron type of pattern. Whereas I stop on a yellow, I can’t describe the pattern though. It just looks timeless and beautiful. I think it’ll look really good in the living and dining room. I grab a couple sets of them, and opt for an emerald green blackout curtain for me and Boog’s bedroom.
“I’m sorry that we weren’t here to help, but don’t worry about anything. We’re stuck together, through thick and thin.”
I nod, “I know. I’m sorry if you guys heard me freaking out over the phone. I was just terrified that…” I lose my train of thought and go silent.
Kat grabs my hand and rubs her finger over the top. “You don’t have to explain yourself. If anyone understands, it’s me.” She’s right. Kat has a very jaded past herself, being held as a prisoner for years by Rage, the now dead Prez of the Demons of Hell. I bet the day she found out he died, she was celebrating in some sort of way.
“I know. Thank you for that.”
“Oh!” Kat mutters, taking off behind me. I turn quickly and follow her, seeing her walk straight through a huge door that leads to an area with every sort of furniture we could need. Dining tables line the walls, while huge sectionals, couches and loveseats are spread amongst the rest of the room. There’s even one wall dedicated to dining room chairs, and carpet hangs from long rods to the right of that. Never did I think I’d be the type of woman who enjoys buying furniture, but I keep reminding myself that this is a new beginning. “Wait. Did either of them give you cash?”
I yank out Boog’s credit card from the pocket of my jean shorts. “Boog gave me his card.”
“I’ll have to owe him one. Damon didn’t give me shit. C’mon, let’s go find some good deals.” Kat and I walk through the store and each pick out some furniture for our houses. We even both make sure to grab some bar stools for the islands that are in our kitchens. But, I can’t forget the most important thing of all – Boog’s leather couch.
There’s a massive variety in the store with all sorts of colors and shapes, but my eyes land on the most gorgeous light purple, leather couch. I’m sure Boog will kill me for buying it, but there’s no way I’m shoving another bland stone-colored object in that house. We need to liven it up a little bit. “You’re really gonna get this one?” Kat laughs, standing right beside me. “I can’t blame you. It’s a nice color. I bet you Boog won’t like it though. Green and purple clash.”
“No, they don’t. The Hulk is green and he wears purple shorts.” I point out, catching how she slyly jabs at Boog being green. She thinks she’s so funny, making her snot jokes.
“True. I know it’s not any of my business, but are you ever gonna tell us what happened to you? I’m late to the party when it comes to your past shit, but if you ever need to talk to anyone about it, just know I’m here.” I won’t say that I know Kat very well, but I do know enough about her to know that she’s being sincere in what she’s saying to me. If there’s anyone that can somewhat understand what I’ve been through, it’s her. Part of me hopes that because of our shared experiences, we’ll have some sort of bond and become even closer friends. Especially since there aren’t many women who came down here. It makes me think we’ll have clubwhores lurking around pretty soon, and no one likes them. The ones back in Montana weren’t too bad though, but that’s only because they know their place.
“Thanks. If I do, it’ll be over a strong drink and lots of crappy food.”
Kat tosses her head back and laughs, “There’s nothing I like more than digging into comfort food when I’m talking about tough crap. We’ll have to make some margaritas, or grab some hard ciders.”
“Yeah, that sounds nice.” I comment, smiling. I think that this is the start to a blossoming friendship. “We’d better get the furniture order in and then go off to the grocery store. I want to get back home soon. Being out here with what just happened, well, it kinda freaks me out a bit.”
“Oh, I don’t blame ya.” She replies, “You’re right. Let’s get outta here and go over to the grocery store. It looks like we have a decent bit of cooking to do for tomorrow anyway.” I know I’m hiding it very well, but being out here is doing more than just freaking me out. It’s terrifying me to my core. Ricardo knows that I’m alive, and I just have to pray that motherfucker died. Or else, I’m toast.
11
If you need violence to enforce your ideas, your ideas are worthless.
-Healthyplace.com
Booger
The past two hours we’ve been in the newly dubbed clubhouse talking about the issues we know are at hand. I gave Damon the lengthy version of what happened when Camila and I were at that stupid fucking hotel, telling him any small detail that I could remember. I even went into how terrified Camila was, or rather still is.
“You’ve been here before. What do you know about this gang?” I ask Damon, who’s leaning against the wall.
He shrugs, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I know they were smart enough to stay clear of Vegas when Rage was in control. They’d be smart to stay out of it now. Don’t worry, if they really are the Vibora, I have a way to deal with them.” What the fuck? He has a way to handle these fucking snake worshipers and didn’t say that to begin with.
“What do you mean ‘deal’ with them?” I question. Damon wasn’t the one that saw the fear rolling through Camila in waves. I did, and I’m sure as fuck not allowing that to ever happen again. I didn’t only vow to Fist that I’ll protect her, but I did for myself as well. Keeping her from being fearful is within those parameters.
“Like I said, I’ll deal with them. You don’t need to know the logistics,” Damon moves from the wall and heads towards the door that leads outside. If he thinks that he’s gonna walk outta here without explaining himself, he’s batshit insane. I stalk behind him, grab him by the back of the neck and pull him back towards the middle of the room. He whips around, fury blazing through his eyes. “Do not ever touch me like that again. If you try, I’ll take off your fucking hand, Boog.”
“How about you tell us what the fuck is going on? I know I’m not the only one here who’s wanting some answers.” I argue, looking to Dixon and Hawk. Dixon stares at Damon while Hawk shrugs. These bastards could be speaking up a little bit more if you ask me.
“Tellin’ us can’t hurt.” Hawk speaks up, looking to our Prez.
“It’s none of your business how I’m going to handle this. It’s a family matter.” Damon snaps out, heading back to the door.
“Thought the club is your family,” Dixon growls. Damon may not know how this hits a nerve with Dixon, but it sure as hell does.
“The club is, you’re right. But, I’m… fuck.” Damon stops speaking and pulls his cell from his jeans. I watch as he quickly taps away on the screen and presses the phone to his ear. “Hey, yeah, it’s me. I know. I know. Ricardo is on our ass, can you call your little Chihuahua off?” He goes silent for a few moments before his face contorts into pure anger. “Yes, she is. What the fuck are you even
talking about?!” Shaking his head back and forth, Damon begins to pace the length of the building, muttering curses and angered words into the phone. “You call that motherfucker off us right now or I’ll bring a war to them. Do not test me, uncle. You know I always keep my word, and losing the Vibora wouldn’t be good for you. Imagine all the money you could lose. This is my final warning, get him off our asses now or I’ll slaughter the entire gang.” He throws his phone across the room and it hits the wall at a wistful speed, crashing into a few tiny pieces.
“I think you’re gonna need a new phone.” I point out, getting a glare in return.
“No shit, sherlock. I just called my uncle.”
“Who’s that exactly?” I may be the only one speaking, but everyone else is thinking what I am. They want to know, they’re just too chickenshit to ask.
“Rafael Ramirez,” Hearing his name makes my blood run cold. That’s the man who caused Camila so much harm, and I know I don’t know the half of it. I just know the little bit of information she’s given me.
“Do you know what he did?” I ask him the question, even though I don’t even have all the answers to it. I just try not to let my anger overcome me. It’s harder than it looks to not run up to Damon, grab him by the throat and choke him out for speaking to that animal like he’s a human. We should slit his throat and let him bleed out.
“Obviously not. If she wants to tell me, she can… but things are complicated. From what Fist tells me, the Skulls Renegade already have claim on slaughtering Rafael. He may be my blood, but that doesn’t mean I am his familia. Understood, Boog? We do not choose what blood runs through our veins. We are simply born into it and have to accept it.” I know the struggles of not being able to choose your family. If I could choose a family to be born into, maybe it would’ve been the one who understands my life choices and doesn’t outcast me because I don’t fit into their perfect family picture. Shit, I miss them every fucking day and the part that hurts the worst is that it’s their choice.
Booger (Reapers MC Book 3) Page 4
